Blakey studies his like it might reveal superpowers.
Beckett shifts closer—not touching me, but close enough that I feel the warmth of him.
I tell myself it’s nothing. Just pretending everything is normal.
Wait…
“There’s only one room listed here,” I say. “I booked two.”
The attendant, a cheerful twenty-something woman in a navy polo, frowns at her screen. “I’m sorry, but it looks like your reservation is for one stateroom, Mrs. Carrington.”
“That can’t be.”
She nods apologetically. “That’s what I have. One stateroom for Beckett, Ashley, Maxwell and Blake Carrington.”
No. No, no, no.
“I bookedtwo rooms. Adjacent to each other. I even noted it in the comments—capital letters.”
The attendant clicks around a few times, and then scrunches up her face. “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Carrington, but it says right here, one balcony stateroom, booked on March 29th.”
I pull out the paperwork I printed out last week, smoothing out the creases and scanning for the booking details. “Look. Tworooms, it says so right... here...” Except that isn’t what it says.One balcony stateroom.
No. I distinctly remember choosing two rooms when I made the booking.
Easy fix, though.
“Well, we need two. You can just add that to my card.”
Before I finish, the woman is shaking her head. “I’m afraid that’s not possible, ma’am. The ship is fully booked. There are no vacant cabins available.”
“There has to be something. Will you look again?”
Tap tap tap…Frowning. “Nothing, I’m afraid.”
I can feel the color rising up my neck. I donotmake mistakes like this. I’m the woman who not only keeps my own life organized, but other people’s too. I’m a professional life organizer, damn it.
There’s no way the boys, me, and Beckett,andmy sanity can survive this.
“Everything okay?” Luna has crept up behind me.
I let out a silent screech before turning around. “Just a little mix-up with our booking. Nothing to worry about.”
Beckett leans one elbow on the counter, looking irritatingly calm. “It’ll be cozy,” he says.
Cozy.
Sweat prickles at the back of my neck. Luna looks crestfallen.
“But… You can’t share with the boys! This cruise is supposed to be romantic for you!”
Then Mom steps up.
“Wait. Wait… I’ll stay with the boys,” she declares. “That way, you and Bex can take my stateroom.”
“Mom, no?—”
“Don’t argue,” she says, waving off my protest. “It’ll be fun. Me and my grandsons. We’ll order room service, watch movies.”
